Required Reading for Wife Sentenced to Spend Labor Day in Naughty Chair: "Underwear Probation" by Spanking Erotica Writer Celeste Jones

A Gentleman Writes:

As all married men should, I rightly rule the roost at home and put my wife over my knee to soundly spank her bottom whenever she breaks any of my many household rules or otherwise fails to please me.

But sometimes spanking alone isn't enough.

My wife, a former child tennis prodigy used to getting her own way growing up with her soft-hearted parents and coach, can be particularly headstrong. So I regularly incorporate additional punishment to accompany spankings to make sure she gets the message.

Mouth-soaping, writing sentences, punishment outfits, long hours sitting in the corner in the "naughty chair" are among the supplemental disciplinary measures accompanying bottom blistering to remind my wife to be sweetly submissive at home and limit her aggression to the tennis courts at our country club.

My wife's attempt at dinner the other night was not quite up to par. The meal was properly cooked but I felt the food could have been arranged a bit more artfully on my plate. Consequently, as my wife cleared the table at meal's end, I informed her she would be soundly spanked once she finished washing the dishes.

I retrieved the "naughty girl paddle" from the upstairs bedroom then sat down is my easy chair in the living room. The washing-up done, my wife came and knelt before me. I lectured her at length about her culinary short-comings then put her over my lap, lifted her skirt, lowered her panties and properly paddled her pert posterior.

As her offense was not especially egregious, I decided that 24 hours in "punishment panties" was sufficient additional punishment.

The panties have rough sandpaper sewn into the backseat that rubs against sensitive skin of a spanked bottom. Stitched into the outer-face of the bloomers' backside is an excellent likeness of my wife's face with a tear rolling down her cheek and cursive lettering that says "Hubby Spanked My Bottom For Being Bad."

My wife went upstairs to put on her punishment panties and a nightgown then came back to the living room. I enjoyed an after-dinner cognac and cigar while my wife sipped a sherry.

Then it was off to bed. I limited our love-making to three hours rather than the usual four as we had a big day ahead of us: my wife was playing for the championship of our country club's annual ladies’ doubles tennis tournament.

We arrived at the club plenty early to allow time for my wife to warm up and for me to talk strategy with her partner.

This woman is not a very good tennis player; in fact, she's quite awful. I asked her to play with my wife because she agreed to my plan. All she's expected to do is put her serves in play and try to return the opponents’. The rest of the time she stands to the side and lets my wife take over.

My strategy worked like a charm in previous matches and was going well in the final round. We were winning two games to love when it came time for this woman to serve.

Then disaster struck. The woman threw the ball high in the air, then totally mishit the serve and pinged my wife right in the ass.

My wife lay sprawling before the net. I ran to her aid and carried her off the court. I sat down on the tennis bench and put her over my knee to check for injury. And when I lifted her skirt, was shocked to see regular sports knickers instead of punishment panties!

Were it not for the purplish bruise from the ball striking her behind, and the fact that I spotted in the audience some of the more "politically correct" members of our country club who aren't particularly accepting of the "1950s-lifestyle," I would have spanked my wife right then and there.

Instead I waited until we got home from the match -- my wife carried on despite her injury but not able to dominate play as before and we lost 6-4, 6-4 -- to pronounce punishment.

I was not sympathetic to my wife's excuse that she worried other women in our club’s ladies locker room might tease her if they saw her wearing punishment panties. As she was too sore to spank and may be for some time, I sent her to bed with no supper as soon as she fixed mine.

As added punishment, once she's served me breakfast, prepared my lunch and dinner and put it in the fridge for me to eat later, and whipped up a batch of fried beef jerky for me and my buddies to enjoy in our Labor Day poker game, my wife will sit in the naughty chair with her nose facing the corner for the remainder of the day. (If she asks nicely, she’ll be allowed 15 minutes out for lunch and another quarter-hour for dinner, plus bathroom breaks.)

While this punishment may sound strict, I'm concerned that my wife's tennis injury lets her avoid a spanking. Can you think of a task for my wife to undertake while sitting in the naughty chair to ensure she learns her lesson?

Kind Sir:

Yes I can. Your wife should be required to read "Underwear Probation" by the spanking erotica writer Celeste Jones. Perusing this torrid tale of disciplinary measures taken towards another silly wife who violated her husband's commands concerning underwear will remind your wife not to remove punishment panties in future.

"Underwear Probation" is available in e-book format and reasonably priced at $2.99. Copies may be purchased by visiting her website www.writercelestejones.blogspot.com.

Ms. Jones' other excellent spanking erotica novellas, “Twenty-One Days to a Better Attitude” and “Legal Briefs: Over the Knee Justice,” as well as her fine collection of spanking erotica short stories, “The Long Arm of the Law,” are also available in e-book format and may be purchased by visiting her website.

Ms. Jones includes several free samples of her writing on her website to whet your appetite.

I’m sure you spent many hours coaching your wife for the ladies’ doubles tennis tournament at your county club and are justifiably disappointed she didn’t bring home a first-place trophy to display in your “man cave” as proof of your accomplishment. Better luck next year.

Spanked at Bridge Night: Who's the "Dummy" Now?

Dear 1950s Wife:

To emphasize our adherence to the 1950s lifestyle, my husband and I and other traditionally-minded couples in town play bridge.

At last night's game, I couldn't help but giggle when the host announced that it was my husband's turn to be the "dummy."

Hubby immediately called a halt to card game and asked the host if he could borrow his paddle. The host sent his wife to their bedroom to fetch the implement and she returned with this 16-inch paddle with holes.

Hubby ordered me to bend over and touch my toes. Then he lifted my skirt, pulled down my panties and gave me two dozen licks with all his might. I screamed after each swat and before I'd even had six licks I was bawling like a baby and calling out: "Please stop Daddy, please. It hurts so much!"

After my paddling, my husband took me to the guest bedroom to wash off my tear streaks and nose snot with a damp washcloth. Then I had to stand in the corner of the living room for the rest of the bridge game with my bare bottom on display.

Of course the men commented throughout the evening on my bruised behind, telling their wives  they would be paddled just as hard if they ever showed such disrespect to them as I had to my husband.

As a proper submissive wife, I support my husband's right to spank me that night, even though I never meant to snicker when the host asked him to play the role of "dummy" at bridge. But I'm afraid even more punishment is in store.

I must play the "dummy" at the next five bridge games.

Rather than laying my cards face-up on the table, I'm going to have to stand in the middle of the table with my bare bottom on display with the cards taped to my behind. And it's going to be extra painful when the cards are ripped off my backside because my husband's going to spank me soundly in front of all the guests at the beginning of each game to ensure my bottom is extra tender.

I know I shouldn't have gone "tee-hee" when the host asked my husband to play the "dummy" at last night's game. But don't you think Hubby is taking my punishment too far?

Good woman:

If you're serious about that question, you really are a dummy.

Paddles with Holes

Dear 1950s Wife:

My husband spanks me with his hand for most offenses, but when I'm really naughty he uses a paddle with holes on my bare bottom. When he's finished whipping me, I have :) visible on one cheek and :( on the other. My husband says the design emphasizes that paddling is lots of fun for him and a real tragedy for me!

Paddlings hurt like heck, but what's worse is my husband sometimes uses humiliation afterwards. The other night he paddled my posterior right before we left for a dinner party. When we got there, he told the guests I'd been really bad and must stand in the corner for 30 minutes before supper with my bare bottom on display.

All the men laughed really hard at the :) :( marks on my bottom. But their wives didn't think it was so funny, especially because the men asked my husband to make them the same type paddle.

My husband will be really busy in his wood shop this week. And he says he'll test all the paddles on me to make sure he got the :) :( marks just right. Whatever am I to do?

Good woman:

Paddles with holes are excellent tools for wife training. I commend your husband for his choice of design. I love a man with a sense of humor!

The paddle my husband uses on me has I < heart > Hubby drilled into it and of course I stand in the corner afterwards with my bare bottom on display so Hubby can admire his work. He usually prefers the deep red hue of just the paddling as background, but sometimes sharply pinches my bottom at various places to provide a decorative edging to the lettering.

It's your wifely duty to serve as test subject for the paddles your husband makes for the other men. I trust they'll pay a reasonble fee for materials and labor and I'm sure your husband will spend the money wisely. Whenever my husband comes into a financial windfall, he buys beer, potato chips, knicknacks for his "man cave" and other useful items.

Humilation such as public cornertime is good for you as it aids in wifely submission. I hope you'll be standing in the corner before guests many times in future with your bright red bottom on display, the men laughing and the women murmuring in sympathy.  

Spending Football Season With My Nose in the Corner

(American) professional football kicks off Sunday.

I hope wives are busy making pigs-in-a-blanket and other tasty treats, polishing television screens and performing other household chores needed to make your husbands' big day a special one. And please don't spoil your menfolk's enjoyment by asking silly questions that take attention from the game such as "why do they call it football when the players' feet hardly ever hit the ball?," "what inning is it?," and "they called a penalty so why isn't the player sent to the penalty box?"

Being an inquisitive sort and unable to grasp the rules of football, early in my marriage I usually found myself on football Sunday standing in the corner with a stinging red behind a few minutes into the first quarter for "talking too much." After ten years together, I've learned to follow a strict routine.

After laying out a tasty spread on the coffee table in front of the TV for my husband's enjoyment, I sit in a chair facing a corner of the living room during the warm-up game and busy myself with darning my husband's socks, knitting him a Christmas sweater or other needle work. In the break before the second game when the home team plays, I retire to the bedroom and put on a naughty cheerleader's outfit.

About that time, a couple of my husband's single friends show up to watch the game. I go downstairs and entertain them with cheers about what great guys they are, how lucky their girlfriends are to have them and that I hope they takes pains to blister their beloveds' backsides when they're naughty.

Right at kickoff, I take my customary position across my husband's lap with my pleated cheerleader skirt flipped up and a hairbrush resting on top of my "spankies" (underwear), which by the way have "I < heart > Hubby" stitched on them.

When the visiting team scores, my husband gives me a stinging spank with the brush for every point to vent his frustration. When the home team scores, he gives me two harder spanks for every point to signify his celebration. Of course he starts from zero-zero after every scoring play in calculating the number of spanks.

At game's conclusion his friends leave. I clean up and put away the leftovers while my husband goes down to the basement to spend 20 minutes on his rowing machine burning off calories from pigs-in-a-blanket and beer he's consumed.

Then we go upstairs and I put on some sexy lingerie. If the home team loses, I get a punishment paddling and am sent to bed with no supper to remind me to cheer harder next time. Then my husband goes into the computer room to smoke cigars all night while composing angry posts to the team's coach on his blog. If the home team wins, I get light OTK with the hand to warm me and hubby up, then we have hot sex all night.

I sure hope the home team has a winning record this year with lots of low-scoring games!